


Something to Prove

by Chaotic_Dreamer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brotherhood-era, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Rated for Triggers, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Trying to Prove Oneself, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Dreamer/pseuds/Chaotic_Dreamer
Summary: Clearing your name is not an easy feat when it seems like the whole world is out to get you, however a chance meeting with the son of the very family he's trying to prove his worth too makes things a little easier. What doesn't make things easier is the more he spends with the other man, the more he falls in love with him.





	1. Chapter 1

The air was bitterly cold for October, the wind wrapped around him as he walked, like the arms of an unwanted embrace. Ignis knew that his threadbare coat wouldn’t see him through the winter, but he couldn’t bare part with it. Like many of his possessions, it belonged to his father and getting rid of it would mean letting go and Ignis wasn’t quite ready to do that. Not yet. Instead he pulled it tighter around him, zipped it up to his chin and buckled down as he walked, making himself smaller and less of a target to the elements.

It was late, and if the news report was anything to go by, there was snow on the horizon. The worst winter in Insomnia they were calling it, an action to counteract the best summer they had only a few months ago. Ignis didn’t usually walk home at this time of night, nor was he usually walking. He’d cut his hand at work, the reminder of this made it throb and he tucked it in against himself. The accident had a knock on effect, putting him behind in his work, missing the last bus and having to walk home.

Walking home wasn’t an issue, the streets of Insomnia were fairly safe to traverse at night. The was crime, no city is immune to attention seeking vagabonds or those who need to survive, however Ignis wasn’t worried. He wasn’t important enough to bring attention to himself, he was a no-body. Nothing, as poor and helpless as the criminals themselves and if things were different for Ignis he might have joined them.

A strong gust of wind caught Ignis of guard, catching his bag and threatening to tear it from his grip. He tightened his hold and turned slightly, it was cold, upholding the promise that snow and ice was on the way. His other hand pulsed painfully, bandaged up and useless as it lay across his chest in an attempt to not aggravate it.

Things had been different, once upon a time, but for as long as Ignis could remember he’d lived in poverty. Struggling to survive. His father told him stories of his grandfather, a man loved by many and in service to the king. However, he was betrayed by his friends and family and was forced to leave the crown. He died with nothing but a legacy in stories and words of wisdom for his son, Ignis’s father. " _The greatest revenge is to accomplish what others say you can’t do. So go out and do it."_

These words, were to be Ignis’s father’s downfall, ending his life last winter leaving his son with the same words, the same stories and a a notebook containing all his life’s work. His plans to redeem their family name to it’s former glory. To prove to the city and the crown that what had happened all those years ago was a terrible misunderstanding. This notebook, leather bound and dog-eared lay nestled between Ignis school uniform in the bottom of his bag. A bag that was as old and threadbare as the jacket covering his back. A bag, like many of Ignis possessions, that should have been replaced long ago, had Ignis had the money or the foresight to do it.

There was a lull in the wind, and Ignis surged forward. His apartment, a shabby studio in the east district was another twenty minute walk away. But he plowed on, knowing the sooner he got home, the sooner he could attend to his hand, eat and collapse onto the futon he called a bed. Where he would catch a few hours sleep before waking up to attend his morning job of doing the accounts for the newsagents at the bottom of his building and heading to school. It was an endless cycle to make ends meet and on occasion Ignis had thought about not continuing. Something always held him back, the desire the prove himself and his family, strong enough to overcome any dark feelings of despair and he never went through it.

His bag was heavy in his hand, almost as if the responsibility of the notebook made it heavier somehow and he shifted his grip, swung it up and over his shoulder. It slammed against his back as he continued working, the action making the tiny minuscule tear in the bottom, weaker, and bigger. It was a tear that if Ignis had known about he would have done something with it, sewed it up, or used some strong industrial tape as a temporary fix. As it turned out, he wasn’t aware of it, and continued walking, oblivious to the tear that with every bump against his back, every jolt as he walked made the tear weaker.

The position with his arm upwards against his chest and the bag, a satchel really, flung backwards over his back, was uncomfortable and Ignis hadn’t walked far, before he was lowering his arm again, he’d have switched hands had it not been for the cut. A cut that was still throbbing painfully, he hoped it wouldn’t need stitches or even antibiotics to stave of infection. An exile from the crown wasn’t the only thing his grandfather had achieved. Being betrayed caused him to be branded a traitor, the Scientia name was a house hold name that brought scorn and distrust wherever Ignis went. Work was hard to come by, he was lucky to get the two he had and he couldn’t complain about them. Heath insurance was non-existence and any sort of request for help from any sort of government-run body was met with deaf ears. No, if his hand was infected or deep enough to warrant additional medical help, then Ignis was on his own.

He stoped under a bus shelter and glanced around, fifteen minutes, although at these pace it was more like thirty. The wind not helping his pace. He contemplated leaving his bag somewhere, taking what he needed and coming back to fetch it in the morning. But that would mean getting up even earlier, and sleep was a precious commodity these days. Instead he continued walking, bag down by his side, thumping his thigh as he walked.

With the bitterness of the cold and the bitterness in Ignis heart, he wasn’t entirely surprised when something else didn’t go his way. It was like the Astrals themselves were punishing Ignis was even breathing, using divine intervention to ensure that nothing could go right for the poor boy. Here he was at seventeen, with two jobs, full time education and the whole world against him.

He stopped and placed his bag on the ground to rub at his eyes, he was exhausted, and these negative thoughts weren’t going to get him anywhere. Sometimes he just wanted to cry, to sit down and shut himself away and just let it all out. But he couldn’t, there was too much to do. Too much to prove and instead he bottled it all up, pushed it to one side and plowed on. Hand free again he picked up his bag, rather forcefully, and swung it back over his shoulder. The resulting momentum prove too much for the bag and the tear grew, with a sound that could be heard over the wind, the bag split from the bottom and everything tumbled to the floor. His school uniform, his work, his supplies and his notebook. The leather-bound notebook that meant so much to his whole family. Ignis turned, the broken and traitorous bag dropping from his grip and watched in horror as a mistimed gust of wind scattered his belongings off the pavement and into the road. A road, that had, up until now been void of any life. This late at night and Ignis had been the only human around. Now, in a cruel twist of fate a car had appeared, a jeep, that was shiny and sleek, and worth more than Ignis could ever earn in his lifetime.

Frozen to his spot, Ignis watched as everything he carried in his bag, was thrown into the road and into the path of the oncoming vehicle, there was nothing he could do when his notebook happened to land exactly where one of the Jeep’s wheels, rolled a few seconds later. Crushing it into the pavement and marking it with tire marks. Ignis couldn’t help the strangled cry that burst from his lips. Everything he’d kept bottled up to this point bubbled forth and he sunk to the ground. It was easily fixed, pick up everything and keeping walking but Ignis was too exhausted, too far gone to even think logically at this point and so could do nothing but sit down in the middle of the pavement, on a windy, cold October night and cry.

 

* * *

 

If Ignis Scientia was at the bottom of the heap, then Gladiolus Amicitia was at the top, standing proud above everyone else. Shielded from the cold and hardships that the rest of Insomnia seemed to suffer. Born into his life and taught that he should respect and be thankful of the life he had. A future shield to the future king, the best education, a family who loved him and friends to help him. From an outsiders perspective Gladiolus had everything, to Gladiolus what he didn’t have was purpose.

He’d been handed everything on a gold platter, and spoon-fed with a silver spoon. He’d had it easy, and now, at eighteen he was beginning to question if there was another life, one that had challenges and was much more exciting and varied then his current life. Of course he’d never tell his father this. His father had been the one who told him to be proud of who he was, be proud of the fact that he was an Amicitia and that name alone was enough to prove to people that he didn’t need anything else. It was after conversations like this that Gladiolus took to the streets. Took his fancy car that he’d been given to him for his graduation and just drove. Drove to the parts of the city that were forgotten, neglected, hidden gems in a city that worshipped and thrived on light from a crystal.

That’s what brought Gladiolus Amicitia to the same street in which Ignis was walking, not a cruel act of fate or divine intervention from the gods but coincidence. A coincidence that Gladiolus had, had yet another argument over purpose and worth with his father, coincidence that Gladiolus had stormed out and driven away from his family’s manor in order to be grounded in the real life and not the fake life he lived in. And therefore it was a complete an utter accident that Gladiolus ran over Ignis’ notebook, crushing the leather binding and making it more dog-eared than before. Gladiolus hadn’t even realised what he’d done. He’d slowed down out of courtesy as he past the other man, keeping an eye on him in case he walked out in front of him, he didn’t and Gladiolus didn’t even feel the unevenness in the road when he ran over the book. Instead he saw, what looked to him, like a young man fainting.

"Shit," he muttered, pulling over and stopping the car. Leaving the engine running, he jogged over to the man. "Hey, are you alright? I saw you collapse. Should I get help?" He was first-aid trained, a requirement as his position as Shield, but going around giving people mouth to mouth wasn’t the best of introductions. He needed to assess the situation first.

The man was young, although he could have been Gladiolus’ age. He was also thin, and not dressed for the temperatures his car was telling him it currently was. But then again, neither was Gladiolus. He was just wearing a a tank top and a leather jacket. A jacket he took off and placed over the shoulders of the other man, when he noticed he was shivering. The cold didn’t bother Gladiolus, he always ran a few degrees hotter than most people. His years of vigorous training had built up a resistance to extreme temperatures. Gladiolus glanced around, his eyes taking in the scattered items, the crushed notebook, and the hand. A hand, bandaged, yet bloody and held limply against the other man’s chest.

"You’re hurt," he stated, rather redundantly. Of course than man knew he was hurt, it was bandaged up, but had he realised the blood was now seeping through? That the bandages probably needed changed, and further attention sought?

"My name’s, Gladio." So far the other man had been rather unresponsive. "I want to help you, if you’d let me?" Still no answer and he headed back to his car for one of the shopping bags he kept in the trunk. He walked back, trying not the grimace at the fact the first one he picked up had Chocobo and Moogles on it.

"Is all this yours?" He asked, slowly surveying the area. The school uniform was that of the public school in the east district. The school work and jotters, confirmed this fact and gave Gladiolus a name. Ignis Scientia. Like everyone else in the city, Gladiolus knew the name Scientia. Knew the stories that went with the name, knew the part his family had played in those very stories. But he didn’t bring attention to the fact, the man needed help and the past wasn’t going to help here. "Your name is Ignis right? Listen I’m going to pick up all your things, then I’m going to help you to my car. Once your settled, I’m going to drive you home. Or the hospital, the choice is yours, but I’d personally prefer it if it was the Hospital. You are hurt and exhausted. They’ll be able to help you."

There was still no answer from the other man and Gladiolus grew worried. He was just sitting there, on his knees. Hadn’t even flinched when Gladiolus had given him his jacket, it was almost like he had given up. Slowly, Gladiolus started collecting Ignis’ belongings and placing them in the shopping bag. The satchel, ripped and beyond repair was placed in there as well and soon all that was left was the notebook, leather bound and now damaged from the tires of his car. With a soft sympathetic smile, he crossed the road to fetch it.

"Don’t touch it!" The other man called out, finally snapping out of whatever had him frozen to the pavement. He stood up shakily, and Gladiolus stepped towards him, wanting to help him, but the other man managed, although unsteady on his feet. He crossed the street, ignoring Gladiolus and retrieved the book, tucking it in his jacket, and holding his hurt arm across it to hold it in place.

"I do not need your help," he said, with a glare and Gladiolus tried his best to not look offended.

Gladiolus nodded. "I understand, however, I’m sorry but I can’t just up and walk away, knowingly leaving you behind. It’s cold, late and you look exhausted. Your hand needs cleaning and redressing and no offence but you look like you could do with a cup of coffee. "

Ignis scoffed and held out his uninjured hand for the carrier bag of his belongings and Gladiolus handed it over.

"At least let me drive you home," Gladiolus pleaded, what kind of human would he be if he let the poor man continued walking in his state. "I’m not an axe murderer, honest. Nor have I been sent my the king to arrest you..." he tried to make a joke, but realised right at the last moment that it might have been distasteful, considering who he was talking to. "That was insensitive of me," he tried to back-pedal. "I’m only saying that I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you, please let me help you."

"Why?" His voice was quiet, hardly heard over the wind. "You know who I am, you obviously saw my name on my workbooks when you picked them up. So why would you want to help me?"

Gladiolus opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. How could he without sounding selfish, or like a spoilt brat. How could he explain that he was bored with his amazing life and wanted something to spice it up. "Because it’s the right thing to do," he settled on meekly. "Who cares about names when someone is hurt. Allow me to drive you home and then once I know you are safe, we can forget our meeting ever happened."

To his credit, Ignis actually contemplated Gladiolus’ words. On the outside a small frown marred his usually expressionless face. Inside an internal war raged. His hand throbbed, his head spun and he was freezing. What harm could happen should he accept this offer of help? It wasn’t as if he had gone begging for someone to help him. This other man, this _Gladio_ , had found him. Had stopped and gotten out of his car, where he could have quiet easily kept driving. Ignis would have never known who he was.

On the other hand, Gladio was obviously from the crown. The car, the skull pendant handing from his necklace, the markings of a tattoo that spanned his arms and back. Then there was his physique, strong and muscular. He had a good six inches on Ignis, brown hair and amber eyes as opposed to Ignis’ dark blonde and green. He was probably crownsguard, Ignis decided and born into it, instead of signing up. He just had that air about him and Ignis didn’t want to be a charity case for the spoilt rich kid who was bored and needed a pet to look after.

But his hand hurt and all he wanted to do was go home and make sure his notebook wasn’t too damaged. To try and wash his school uniform before school in the morning. To eat something and to sleep.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, an age in which Gladiolus’ worry for the other man grew, Ignis gave a small imperturbable nod. "I’ll accept your offer of you driving me home."

Gladiolus sighed in relief. "Good, thank you."he smiled and gestured to his car. "Come on, it has heating. If anything you’ll be warm and I have some bottled water or ebony in the trunk if you’re thirsty."

Ebony, it had been so long since Ignis had had a cup of coffee and a can of ebony sounded delightful and he gave another nod. "An Ebony would be much appreciated, thank you."

Feeling like they were making progress, Gladiolus cracked a smile and led Ignis over to his car. Stopping at the trunk to grab a can of coffee and swapping it for the bag with his supplies. The bag was placed on the back seat and door opened to allow Ignis to sit down, before he walked around to the other side and sat in the driver’s seat. The heat had been running with the car engine and as such it was lovely and warm. Ignis still had both his own jacket and Gladiolus’ and from the back seat, Gladiolus produced a blanket to cover the other man’s legs.

"Do you just go around finding people that look helpless and giving them coffee and blankets?" Ignis asked softly, so softly he probably hadn’t realised he spoke out loud.

"It’s a survival kit. Ebony for energy and blankets for warmth. I have apple pouches, cup noodles and protein bars if your hungry?"

Ignis cracked a small smile but shook his head. "I’ll pass thank you."

The smile didn’t go unnoticed, Gladiolus caught it out the corner of his eye and had the strongest desire to make it happen again. Everyone deserved happiness, no matter who they were or what their grandfather’s supposedly did years ago. Maybe Gladiolus felt guilt for the part his family had played in the downfall of the Scientias. Maybe he wanted to make that up by helping Ignis, maybe there was something about the other man that drew him in. That made him want to be friends, to help and to support the other man. Gladiolus didn’t know, what he did know is that Ignis was warming to him, and that wasn’t a pun about the colour returning to his cheeks or the fact that he had stopped shivering.

"You will have to tell me where to go," he said to Ignis, hating to interrupt him from his coffee but knowing if he didn’t get directions soon he’d happily drive right out of Insomnia. Away from both their lives.

Ignis nodded. "Do you know Izunia Way?" He asked and Gladiolus nodded. "Top of the street, third apartment building."

Gladiolus didn’t point out the irony that a supposed traitor lived on a street named after a crown traitor. Instead he concentrated on the driving, silence filling the car. It was still quite a distance to where Ignis had told him to go, at least another twenty minutes, thirty even, by foot and Gladiolus was surprised at how far it was. "Do you usually walk home?"

Ignis shook his head. "There’s a bus." He left the rest unsaid, he didn’t need to go into detail, he didn’t need to even answer his questions but there was something about the other man that drew him in. He was a naturally friendly person, kind and giving and it Ignis couldn’t help but like him back. Ignis wasn’t the type of person to hate someone anyway, at least not without reason and Gladiolus had been nothing but nice since they met and that’s with him knowing who Ignis was, knowing Ignis’ past. Was his family really still spoken about? A small part of him had been hoping that the story would soon die out, that people would forget and he’d be able to start living his life again. But that didn’t seem like it would be the case, not if Gladiolus knew who he was.

He toyed with the idea of asking exactly what was said about his family, to find out the other side of the story but Gladiolus was already slowing to a stop outside his apartment building.

"Thank you," he muttered softly, making a move to climb out of the car but Gladiolus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I have a first aid kit in the trunk, would you let me see to your hand if you won’t go to hospital?"

Ignis glanced down at it, wincing as a sharp pain cut across it when he moved it. It seriously needed re-dressing and cleaning. The knife that had done the damage hadn’t been cleaned yet, neither to be fair, was the towel he’d used to stem the flow of blood when it had first happened. He nodded. "Thank you," and Gladiolus grinned before turning the engine off and removing his keys. "I can’t promise you that your car will be safe here though, he added concernedly when he saw Gladiolus was preparing to leave is car parked at the side of a road in a pretty rough district. "There’s a car park three blocks away. 

Gladiolus waved his hand. "The old girl will be fine, I once camped in her beyond the wall with three Iron Giants walking in circles around it. I slept like a baby and only needed a new paint job." 

Ignis didn’t know what was more impressive. The fact that Gladiolus had gone beyond the wall or the fact that he had survived an encounter with demons. He watched, slightly in awe as the other man jumped out of the car and grabbed the bag with Ignis’ belongings in it and a green plastic box from the trunk of the car. Then with a wink, walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for Ignis to get out.

Gladiolus was truly like no other man Ignis had come across and he smiled his thanks as he clambered out of the car and lead the way towards his building.

 

* * *

 

Gladiolus couldn’t stop looking around, he was appalled at how neglected and run down this part of the city was. Almost as if it were a forgotten corner that no-one remembered. Bins were overflowing, street lights didn’t work. Even Ignis’ building could have done with a lick of paint and a thorough clean. Windows that were broken had been boarded up, doors to apartments were open and off their hinges and Gladiolus had the strongest urge to use his name and power, to go marching down to the housing department and demanded they did something about the mess as no-one deserved to live like this. Even the refugees had better accommodations than what Ignis was living in.

"Do you have any neighbours?" he asked, keeping a steady eye on Ignis as they climbed the stairs.

"Mrs Creedy, lives in the second floor and Mr Bagshot lives on the fifth, but apart from that I’m not sure. If I do, they keep themselves to themselves." There was no mention of if Ignis lived with anyone.

Ignis lived on the fourth floor, it was in better shape than the other floors, definitely habitable and his door at least was still in working order and by the looks of it, lockable. As so proven when Ignis pulled his key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

Gladiolus entered first, Ignis gesturing him inside and he tried the light switch to be able to shed some light on Ignis’ dark apartment. But nothing happened.

"Power’s probably out because of the wind, or because some of the local youths cut the wires again." Gladiolus just about caught the roll of Ignis eyes through what little light was brought in from a streetlight. "There should be some matches and candles on the side board to your left," he added as he walked passed him and into the apartment proper. "I’ll be right back."

Gladiolus fished out his phone and switched on the flash from his camera, in order to see what he was doing. As advertised there were two candles and a box of matches sitting on the side. Almost as if the power going out was a regular occurrence.

He grabbed the matchbox and already he knew from the absence of sound that it was going to be empty. Sure enough, when he pushed the box open there was nothing inside. "Have you got another box of matches anywhere?" He called out, not knowing where Ignis was. "Only this one is empty."

Ignis reappeared, school uniform in hand no doubt trying to salvage it to wear tomorrow. "Is it?" Gladiolus nodded. "Drat, I was supposed to go shopping. I was going to offer you some coffee but that was also on my list. Sorry." He looked apologetically up at Gladiolus, who shook his head in return.

"Wait right here," he muttered and using his phone to navigate left the apartment and started back the way they came and back down the stairs.

Ignis watched him go, hopeful that he would come back, but realistically thinking that he should have known better than to think someone would be willing to help him.

Gladiolus was struggling, there was something about Ignis that just made him want to protect the other man. Maybe it was the Shield’s blood in him, or maybe it was guilt, but Gladiolus didn’t want to see Ignis suffer.

Back down at his car he popped the trunk and started rummaging through his survival kit. Camping lanterns, coffee and cup noodles were placed in another plastic carrier, along with the blanket Ignis had used before and a box of matches.

He locked his car up again and was taking the stairs to Ignis apartment, two at a time before arriving back in Ignis’ apartment a scant five minutes after he had left.

If he was being truthfully honest with himself. Gladiolus had no idea what he was doing, or why he was doing it. Ignis needed help, he was bored. Was he doing this for something to do or was he doing it out of the goodness of his heart? Did he even have a heart? Gladiolus had never thought about others before. There was him and there was his sister. Occasionally he worried about his father but not often. Noctis, the Prince, was growing on him, after he rescued his sister from being lost in the gardens, Gladiolus had found something of a respect for the prince. Looked at him more than just his job dictated him to do. Noctis was a friend now, which made his job easier.

Ignis was a stranger, a complete stranger. A stranger who just so happened to have a history that intertwined with Gladiolus’. He only knew his family’s side of the story. That his grandfather and Ignis’ had been friends, until the incident had happened. He forced himself not to think of something that had come between two friends, that had destroyed a family and tried to focus on the now. That Ignis was hurt and something had brought Gladiolus to him in order to help. A devote believer in the astrals would have said it was fate that had brought them together. That Gladiolus being on the same street Ignis had been on, was the astrals way of reconciling the two families and purging the guilt of the Amicitia family. To Gladiolus it was mere coincidence.

He hovered outside the door, unsure if he was to knock even if he had already been invited in and decided on pushing the door open a little and calling out in a hushed whisper.

"It’s only me…" he crossed over the threshold. "I brought supplies." He walked further into the apartment, hoping he was still welcome and that his quick exit hadn’t stopped him from being able to help.

He passed the candles on the sideboard and lit one of them with a match from the box he had retrieved from his car. Carrying it and the bag of supplies he found Ignis in the main room attempting to peel the bandages from his hand.

"Let me," he said, dropping the bag on the table and bringing the candle closer so they could see what they were doing. From within the bag he drew out one of the lanterns and turned it on, bathing the kitchen in light. It was a sparse room. Clean, well as clean as it could be despite the obvious mould around the window and sink and empty. A sink and a refrigerator, that a due to lack of noise had probably turned off when the rest of the electricity went off.

Pulling out the first-aid kit, Gladiolus took Ignis hand in his and finished unwrapping the bandages. "How did you do this again?" He muttered going to the sink and filling a bowl with water before returning to the table. In the absence of a clean cloth he took some gauze and soaked it before cleaning around the edges of the wound.

"A knife not being stored or cleaned correctly," Ignis replied, putting on a brave face even though Gladiolus could tell he could feel the stinging.

"Where do you work?" With the outside of the wound cleaned, he got a fresh bit of gauze and started to clean the inside, checking for anything that might halt the natural healing process.

"The noodle bar on Founder’s Avenue?" Gladiolus nodded, he knew it well. There was a coffee shop across the road he sometimes took his sister too and he liked to go to the noodle bar on a Friday night, but he’d never seen Ignis there. "I work in the kitchen." Ignis added as if he could read Gladiolus’ mind.

"Explains why I haven’t seen you there," Gladiolus smiled. He got out a packet of antibiotic ointment and applied it to the outside of the wound. "It’s going to need stitches." Ignis sighed. He had sort of figured that out, but was in denial about it. It was just too much hassle, and much too expensive. Gladiolus could see the way Ignis’ heart sunk at the news and could understand why. Medical care wasn’t cheap and when you’ve been ostracised from society, it would be hard to find someone willing to help. Instead he pulled a small blue vial from the bottom of the first-aid box.

Ignis shook his head knowing what the blue vial was. "I couldn’t possibly…" he started before trailing off. Could he though? It was crown property, crown magic, a simple everyday energy drink turned curative by way of harnessing the crystals power. A magic reserved for the king and his guards. A magic, civilians weren’t even allowed to know about unless in extreme situations and only with permission from the king and his counsel. He’d read about them, been told about them. Even used the last remaining one from his grandfather’s stock in an attempt to bring his dead father back to life. Could he take this one to heal his hand when it could be used to cure thousands with more serious wounds than he did?

He didn’t have time to say no, to continue with his original train of thought, before the vial was being pressed into his hand, his fingers being closed around it. The fragile glass shattering in his palms. He closed his eyes waiting for the pain the glass shards would add. The pain never came, only a soothing sensation as the glass mixed with the blue crystals and healed his hand.

"A gift," Gladiolus said softly and Ignis looked at him, seeing for the first time in the dim light the colour of his eyes. Eyes like amber, un-judging eyes filled with kindness.

"Why are you helping me?" Ignis whispered. "I’m the enemy."

Gladiolus laughed and let go of Ignis’ hand. An action Ignis found disappointing. Whilst Gladiolus’ hands had been rough and callused, it was comforting and another human touch. His hands had been warm as well, which was more than he could say for his own hands. "The enemy, as you so call it. Is Niflheim. Fighting a battle beyond the wall with the glaive. It’s the demons in the dark and the disease that spreads through the outlines like wildfire. It is not a young man with an unfortunate past."

Ignis smiled, probably the first proper smile since his father died. "Thank you," he whispered eyes still fixated on the amber of Gladiolus’ "Thank you so much."

Gladiolus shook his head. "Don’t mention it, I just did what any decent human being should have done upon seeing a hurt individual on a cold road."

"If only there were more decent people in the world like you Gladio…?"

Gladiolus froze before answering truthfully.

"Amicitia, Gladiolus Amicitia."


	2. Chapter 2

Gladiolus Amicitia. The name hit him like a sack of lead bricks. Amicitia. The name of the family that betrayed his own, the name of the family, that without their interference meant that Ignis wouldn’t be living like this. That his father and grandfather would still be alive, that he would be living his legacy and be in service to the crown. And yet, that family was here, taunting him and flouncing in front of him, showing off their wealth and power by taking pity on him, by kicking him when he was down.

"Get out," he muttered pointing angrily to the door.

"What?" Gladiolus winched at the tone coming from the other man. "Why."

"Just get out," if this man really was an Amicitia, then Ignis wanted nothing to do with him. "I don’t want your pity or your help, I want you gone."

"I..." Gladiolus didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even had time to explain. "I’m not who you think I am."

"So you’re not an Amicitia?"

"Well, yes... but..."

"Then get out."

It was Gladiolus’ turn to get angry, for his temper to flare. This man was judging him on his family name. Something others did to him all the time. It was ironic, hypocritical and he snapped. "Fine I’ll leave, as that’s obviously what you want. You know, I’ve known who you are longer than you’ve known my name. I treated you with the kindness and respect you deserved, because I am better than any of the other bastards that treat you differently because of your name. Only it was for nothing it seems, as soon as you hear my name you treat me like everyone treats you. With distaste, with mistrust. I thought you were better than that. I looked beyond something that had happened before we were born and I helped you not out of pity or guilt but out of the goodness of my own heart. So yes, I will leave. But I honestly expected something different of you."

He turned to leave, hoping that the other man might have had a change of heart. That he might apologise and call him back so Gladiolus could help him more. But there was no belated apology, no movement to stop him from leaving and Gladiolus was out in the hallway, door slamming shut behind him.

Inside, Ignis was shaking, the adrenaline and Gladiolus’ words washed over him. A wave of truth, knocking into him and catching his breath. He sunk to the floor, gasping for air. What was he doing? The one man in this whole town who had looked beyond his name and he cast him out as others had done to him. Tears fell down his face as he wallowed in self-pity, he truly hated himself right now.

How stupid could he be? He curled up where he was, scared, alone and worthless. He could do nothing but cry until sleep and exhaustion got the better of him.

 

* * *

 

The morning after Gladiolus’ assistance saw Ignis taking the first day off school and work since his father’s death. He needed the time to rest, to recuperate and to think. The one thing on his mind was Gladiolus’ words from the night before. They hit home, and if Ignis ever wanted to change the way others saw him, then he would first have to change how he saw them. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Gladiolus, despite knowing his history, had helped him. Something other’s in his position wouldn’t have done. How many jobs had he lost out on, because he had given his name? How many things had he been accused of or blamed for? He was lucky to have the jobs he had now, but he knew for a fact he didn’t get paid half as much as someone else doing the same job as him. Even at school, the teachers look at him as a delinquent, like his grandfather’s betrayal was somehow hardwired into his blood and he would automatically follow the same path. A path of destruction that would bring the royal family crumbling around him.

He was conflicted in what to believe, Gladiolus’ words or the words in his head. The paranoia that the crown had found him and wanted him gone in punishment for his grandfather’s betrayal. A betrayal that was just a gross misconception.

The fact remained that Gladiolus had helped him, the scarless hand and the after effects of the crystals magic coursing through him and knitting together all the other ailments he had, some he hadn’t been aware off, was proof of that. The fact that a member of the crown used magic on a civilian, let alone someone of Ignis’ status.

His day was spent with a lot of frustrated sighs, slamming doors, sleeping and re-reading his grandfather’s journal. It wasn’t fair, life wasn’t fair. Something unbelievable had happened and Ignis had fucked it up. Big time.

By five o’clock he had calmed down somewhat, no-longer angry with himself and the world he took to the streets. Hungry and in search of food. Despite his earlier guilt at dropping all his responsibilities, he had needed it. It had been worth it, to work through his thoughts, control his anger and to rest.  
He still, however, had no idea what to do about Gladiolus. He owed him an apology, that much was true. He had helped him, looked after him, and Ignis had spat it back at him. In no fewer words than just telling the man to fuck off.

It wasn’t as cold as the night before, the wind had blown over the night and leaving it calm and cool. Ignis walked, in the crisp air, being cooped up inside hadn’t helped his mental health either and the fresh air, cleared his mind, helped him figure out what he wanted to do. He needed to find Gladiolus. But he couldn’t just walk up to the Citadel and demand to see him. That wasn’t how it worked. Plus he wouldn’t get two feet in front of the gates before being arrested for trespassing or whatever excuse they would use. If they even needed an excuse to look up the grandson of Ignatius Scientia.

Without realising it he found himself at his place of work, knowing that he couldn’t go in, lest he show he was lying about being ill, he instead went across the road to a coffee shop. It wasn’t the best coffee, but it was in his budget and it was the first caffeine he’d had all day.

It was there, sitting at a table by the window, alternating his glances between his notebook and the window outside that he saw him. Or if he was being accurate, heard him.

"A coffee and a hot chocolate please." Ignis didn’t turn around, merely kept his head down as he tried to think of the words he needed to say. "Almond milk please, and whipped cream and caramel on the hot chocolate."

"Gladdy," a high pitched voice pleaded. "Can I have a cake please?"

Gladiolus chuckled. "Sure thing squirt, you pick."

There was a cheer of delight and lots of noises of excitement as the child decided on a cake, before finally picking one and the sound of a plate passing hands, sliding along the countertop.

"Be careful Iris," Gladiolus warned and the child, Iris, giggled. "I’m just as strong as you are. I can manage."

The sound of footsteps came closer, and Ignis blanched. The shop was empty, what on Eos would posses them to choose seats near him? Yes, he needed to speak to Gladiolus, to apologise for his behaviour. But not now, not like this.

"Hi!" The girl chirped and Ignis looked up, she even looked like him. Brown hair and brown eyes, not as honey-coloured as Gladiolus’ but there were similarities in their faces.

Ignis just smiled and nodded politely.

The girl placed her cake on one of the high bar tables before struggling to clamber onto one of the equally high chairs. She looked about ten, and Ignis was about to stand up and help when Gladiolus came over.

"There’s plenary of other seats," he teased, helping her to sit down.

"I know," she replied swinging her legs happily. "But I like feeling tall and looking out the window, watching the people pass us by."

Gladiolus chuckled and ruffled her hair, before turning and catching sight of Ignis. "Oh..." he faltered and Iris looked at him, before looking back at Ignis. "Hi."

Iris snorted and whispered as only a kid could. Loud and obviously. "He’s cute Gladdy, you should ask him out."

Gladiolus eyes flew open and he blushed, his hand reaching out to cover the girl’s mouth to stop her from blabbing any more. "Ignore her," he muttered. "Drink your hot chocolate. May I?" He gestured to the empty seat opposite Ignis and he nodded.

Gladiolus placed his own coffee on the low table and sank into one of the armchairs. A stark contrast to the high tables that were behind him. Iris shifted slightly in her seat, innocent feet still swinging as she drank her hot chocolate, ate her cake and strained to listen to the conversation behind her.

Ignis fidgeted nervously. Now would be a great time to apologies. Once again, pure coincidence had brought them together, but still, Ignis couldn’t find the words to say. "About last night..." he finally muttered, at the same time as Gladiolus asked: "How’s your hand?"

"Oh," Ignis raised the hand in question and turned it over, examining both sides before flexing it experimentally. "Good, great even. I’ve never felt better."

"Good," Gladiolus replied nodding softly. "I’m glad." A silence befell them, awkward, broken only by the tapping of Iris’s shoes as they hit the legs of her chair.

"Listen," Ignis started again, and Gladiolus looked up at him. "I’m sorry. What I said, last night? Completely uncalled for. You were right, you were only trying to help and I treated you like others treat me. It was rude of me, and I apologise." He sighed and clasped his hand on his lap. One thumb stroking the other in a motion that was cathartic to him. He kept eye contact with Gladiolus though, watching as the fire that was in his eyes diminished at his apology. "I’ve lived my whole life being judged on something I didn’t do, I’ve tried to rise above it, to move on with my life and continue my efforts to right my family name. And then you come along, acting so chivalrous, so generous and how do I repay you? By doing unto you what others unto me. So I’m sorry, I truly am and I hope that your generosity extends to forgiving me."

Gladiolus was silent for the longest time, eyes narrowed in a look of pensive, mulling over Ignis’ words. It was Iris who broke the silence, startling the men as they both had forgotten she was there.

"You’re right about one, thing." She said, feet kicking as she clambered down off her high chair and crossed to stand between them, hands on her hips. "My brother is the smartest and kindest man I know. I’m sorry you’ve been treated so badly, but my brother would never do that. My brother wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless that fly wanted to hurt the prince, but even then my brother would find some way of protecting the prince and keeping the fly unharmed. Because that’s what he does."

"Iris..." Gladiolus’ voice was low and filled with warning. Iris turned to him, her face a picture of innocence yet she looked ready to argue.

"I know," Ignis responded with a smile, intercepting whatever sibling spat he was about to witness. "Your brother did something that others wouldn’t have even dared. I will be forever in his debt and I wouldn’t even know how to start repaying him."

Iris beamed. "He’s good like that, not much good at anything else, but he’s good at being kind. He makes a bloody good Shield as well."

"Iris!" Gladiolus scolded.

"What? I’ve heard worse especially when dad is in his office arguing with someone, it’s usually Cor and he gives it just as good back." She turned to Ignis. "What’s your name?"

Ignis smiled. "Ignis."

"Well Ignis, I think I have an idea in how you can repay my brother." She grinned and Ignis was almost afraid to hear what she had to say. So it seemed, did Gladiolus.

"Iris, whatever you are about to say..."

"Tell me Ignis, are you gay?"

Ignis blushed, his colour matching the red on the soles of Gladiolus’s boots. Gladiolus blushed as well but hid it with a glare and a roar at his sister. "Iris! You can’t... you shouldn’t... urgh, you can’t just ask people if they’re gay!" He ran a hand through his hair and glanced apologetically at Ignis who had now taken to look anywhere, at anything that wasn’t the Amicitia siblings.

"Why not, how else are you supposed to know? How else are you supposed to find a date, if you don’t ask people."

Gladiolus blushed even more. "Oh my god, look you just know okay, just... go wash your face or something."

"But it’s not dirty..." Gladiolus stuck his finger in his coffee and wiped it on Iris’ nose. She screeched in response and glared at him. "What was that for?"

"Go wash your face," he responded meekly, burying his head in his hands. Iris harrumphed and stormed off towards the restrooms, leaving Ignis alone with Gladiolus.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my sister." Gladiolus groaned after a minute of silence, a minute in which Ignis was struggling to find words to fill the awkward silence.

Ignis chuckled. "She’s precious."

"Annoying you mean?" Gladiolus added with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, I was being polite."

They laughed before a silence befell them. "I suppose that what I get for coming out to her, now she thinks she’s my wingman."

"Oh," Ignis didn’t know how to respond and returned to stroking the nail on his thumb with the other.

"Sorry, that was too much. She’s a good kid, smart for ten, much love to give. She’s very much like our mother."

There was something left unsaid there, but Ignis didn’t reply. "She’s like you: kind, generous and not afraid to speak her mind. I meant what I said, I really am sorry, and I do hope you’ll forgive me."

Gladiolus looked up at him, amber eyes soft and kind. He nodded. "I forgive, but you don’t have to repay me. I understand. You’ve been through hell and back."

Ignis chuckled. "I’m still there." He muttered softly.

"Then I want to help you!" Gladiolus was full of surprises and Ignis looked up at him in alarm, not even bothering to hide his surprise at his outburst.

"I’m sorry?"

"I want to help you," Gladiolus repeated, softer this time, but eyes no more intense. "You said you want to clear your family’s name, and I want to help."

"But how?" Ignis finally found his voice. "I don’t even know how I’m going to go about doing it."

Gladiolus frowned. "We’ll think of something. I think though, first things first would be to share what we each know. By having both perspectives of the incident as told by two parties who weren’t there, we might be able to paint a picture of what actually happened."

Ignis nodded slowly. That would actually be a good idea. He had only heard his families side of things, the side that painted his grandfather as the betrayed and not the betrayer. Hearing how the Amicitia’s tell the same story, could be interested. "When are you next free? We could meet here and go over what we know."

"Tomorrow? I’ll have Iris, but I can set her some homework tasks or something?"

Ignis wondered if Gladiolus always looked after Iris. "I can’t tomorrow, I took a personal day from school and work, I really can’t afford to miss two days in a row. The weekend perhaps? I work during the day, we could meet in the evening?"

Gladiolus nodded. "I have this Saturday off..." he trailed off the sight of his sister, still scowling but walking towards them nudging his memory. "Ah but Iris has a birthday party at the ice rink in the east district. I have to take her and pick her up. By the time I got here, it would be time to leave again. Unless we meet closer. I can pick you up though. There’s a coffee shop, across the road, where I usually go when I have to wait while she’s doing lessons there. It’s quiet enough as everyone goes to the overpriced one in the complex."

Ignis nodded. "That works for me. I could meet you there, though. The number 16 bus stops right outside…"

"I’d be more than happy to give you a lift home, so don’t waste time getting a return fare…"

"I have a bus pass…"

"Oh…" The chemistry between them was weird, constantly talking over each other, finishing off each other’s sentences. It was almost as like neither of them knew where they other one stood, what they were to do next. Iris once again saved the day, turning up and glowering at him.

"I wanna go home, I have homework and I have to practise what I learned at my piano lesson before it goes poof right outta my head." She stated hands on her hips.

Gladiolus looked up at her, then across at Ignis before nodding minutely.

For a split second, Ignis didn’t want Gladiolus to leave, but the other man had a responsibility to his sister, so he returned the nod. Adding a small smile. "Thank you."

"Please don’t mention it," Gladiolus rose and extended his hand. "We’re not as bad as you think up there, especially with the creation of the Glaive. We’re a lot more tolerable than we were back in our grandfathers’ time."

Ignis took the proferred hand and shook it. It felt as much the same as it did the night before, warm but course. The hands of someone who wielded heavy tools for a living. “I’ll bare that in mind,” he turned to Iris, who was watching the both of them, her previously disgusted face, one of interest as she watched their exchange. Her mouth curled up in the makings of a knowing smirk. “You have a good brother here, I apologise for any stressed or strife I may have caused.”

Iris’ face broke out into a fully fledge grin. “It’s okay, we all have tough times. I hope yours gets better soon. Gladdy is the best, he smart and super funny, if anyone can help he can, and if he can’t well he’ll try and put a smile on your face in the process.”

Gladiolus rolled his eyes, his cheeks tinging pink again. “Iris…” he groaned but said no more.

Ignis chuckled. “This weekend then?” He confirmed turning back to Gladiolus.

“This weekend,” and with a nod and a small one-fingered salute, took his sister’s hand. “Come on Brat, let’s get you home."

 

* * *

 

The thing about Gladiolus was that people tended to judge him, not only by his name, but by his size as well. He was Shield to the Prince of Lucis, he was supposed to be big and strong, quick to temper and would stop at nothing to protect the prince. Yes Gladiolus was quick to temper, but he was also quick to forgive. As long as people took ownership for their mistakes and apologised, then he could forgive them.

"Hey, Gladdy?” They had been mostly silent in the car, neither bringing up what had transpired at the cafe. It was a favourite place of theirs, somewhere to go after Iris’ piano, and before heading back home. Somewhere completely out of the way where they could pretend they were normal for once.

He glanced over at her, before turning back to the road. "Yeah squirt?"

"I’m sorry if I over stepped a line, you were having a grown-up talk and I butted in,” she kicked her feet and Gladio looked at her to see her head downcast. She meant it, she always did, and Gladio started to slow the car down, pulling into a bus lay-by. "I’m really sorry, but I just want you to be happy.”

Iris always had a way of making his heart break with her worlds. “I am happy, Moogle,” Making sure there was no bus behind them, he parked up and leaned over to give her a hug. “Whatever gave you the idea that I wasn’t?"

Iris hugged him back, little arms going around his neck as they tried to avoid the centre console. “You came home is such. foul mood last night. I had baked cookies and you didn’t even acknowledge them, you just went straight to your room.”

So she was more perceptive that he thought, Gladio frowned, feeling more than a little guilty. After leaving Ignis’ he’d tried to calm down by driving around town, but all he could think of was how he had been nothing but kind to the other man, helped him, healed him and everything had just been for nought. Needing to get away from his thoughts, he’d returned home and gone straight to his room, before putting in some head phones and blasting his music so as to not think. He reached up to stroke her head softly. “I’m sorry, It’s a bit complicated."

Iris scoffed and pulled away, putting her hands on her hips. "Try me,” she demanded.

Gladiolus chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he held up his hands in mock defeat. “What do you know of Scientia?” He put the car back into drive again, and after checking the coast was clear, pulled out onto the road to finish their journey home.

Iris scrunched her face up in thought, legs swinging again. “Isn’t he the guy that betrayed the king? Did something so terrible that they exterminated him from the crown.”

Gladiolus barked out a laugh. “Excommunicated, yes.”

Iris looked proud that she had remembered something. “Okay, so what about him?"

Gladiolus sighed and braced himself for her reaction. "That’s his grandson."


End file.
